


Forever

by Herbert_Holmes



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Devoted Spock, I could go to therapy but instead I write fanfiction, I'm obsessed with continuity, M/M, Quest, Spock accepting that he's a dramatic goober, This could have been longer but I'm impatient, Yearning, martyr complexes are fun, old married spirk, spirk, what should have happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29636685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herbert_Holmes/pseuds/Herbert_Holmes
Summary: Near the end of his life, Spock Prime decides that dying alone in the Kelvin universe is not a fate he need accept. And so, when long range sensors detect a mysterious anomaly Spock has only heard of once before in his life, he risks everything to reconnect with someone he thought he'd lost decades ago: Jim Kirk.Since we never learned the specifics of Spock's death in Beyond, I'm assuming that there's wiggle room. And if there's one thing I enjoy, it's taking my stubborn refusal to accept facts and combine it with my obsessive need to fit into established Trek continuity. I hope you enjoy!
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> The main body of the story takes place near the end of Star Trek Into Darkness. The prologue precedes Star Trek: Generations.

Before

_ "Jim," the Vulcan said, taking a seat at the hand-carved table in their kitchen, his breakfast steaming in a manner he imagined humans would consider "comforting."  _

_ The human across from him gave him a warm look, hands wrapped around a mug of hot coffee. "I know that look, Spock. What's on your mind?" _

_ "I'm curious." _

_ "Just now?" _

_ Spock ignored the quip. "Why do you feel you need to attend this launch?" _

_ Jim Kirk sighed, his shoulders falling, the coffee mug drifting down to settle on the tabletop. "God knows I'd get out of this if I could," he said, his voice growing sad. "But Chekov and Scotty are going, and they'd kill me if I didn't accompany them to run interference." _

_ Spock raised an eyebrow. "Run interference?" _

_ Jim smiled. "Do you remember when we got the  _ Enterprise-A _? The ship was a wreck. They'd grabbed whatever hull they had lying around, slapped the name Enterprise on it, and shoved it at us, hoping we would take it, run off somewhere, and leave Starfleet alone." _

_ Spock shifted in his chair. "I do not believe that is an accurate memory." _

_ "It's the truth, Spock." Jim said, taking a sip of his coffee. "They couldn't fire me after that probe stuff, so they shuffled me down the ladder and hoped I'd get into trouble far away from them." _

_ "How does this relate to the launch of the  _ Enterprise-B _?" Spock asked, patient. _

_ "Now it's a big event." Jim winced. "They had time to prepare. The  _ Excelsior _ was a massive success, and now they've perfected the design and they're making a big production of it. Reporters, adoring crowds, hell, I've heard they've even hired someone to compose an orchestral suite in its honour." _

_ "I fail to see where this is going." _

_ "Doesn't it feel wrong somehow? Like it's not right to name another ship the  _ Enterprise _ now that we're not in command?" _

_ Spock considered for only a moment. "You inherited the ship from two previous captains. And, if I may be so bold, you later assumed command from two further captains, myself included." _

_ Jim shot Spock an amused look, but didn't take the bait. "My point is, this celebration seems too little too late. And I hate to leave Scotty and Chekov to endure it alone." _

_ "You wish we had been celebrated?" _

_ "Not celebrated, but…" Jim smiled, his eyes assuming a faraway look. "After the...Khan incident." Spock understood the unspoken "after you died" that haunted that phrase like a ghost. "An ensign--maybe even a cadet, I can't remember--asked me if we'd be getting a hero's welcome once we returned to Earth. I said something flippant, but he was right. We never got our due. After the V'Ger mission, it's like we couldn't do anything right. Khitomer was a success, yes, but that wasn't our victory to claim. I just…" Jim shook his head and took another sip of coffee. "Starfleet needs a new flagship. Something fresh and new. This new ship, whatever it does, just won't be the  _ Enterprise _. Not to me. Seeing her off, and having nothing to do with the command structure will be a good way for me to say goodbye. It won't be fun, but I think I need to do it." _

_ "It seems illogical to subject yourself to such discomfort," Spock said, "but I can understand the therapeutic value of a catharsis." _

_ "You should join us," Jim asked, his eyes bright. _

_ "I'm afraid I am needed at the Academy." _

_ "Liar." _

_ Spock arched an eyebrow. "In that case, I shall wish you an enjoyable experience." _

_ "I'll be fine. I'll tell you all about it when I get back." _

_ Inhaling the last of his coffee, Jim rose, grabbed his uniform jacket, clasped Spock's hand for a tender moment, and then left. _

_ It was the last time Spock ever saw him. _

* * *

After

The Orion Doctor frowned at the readout and then looked back at Spock.

Spock nodded. "It is as I suspected."

"You suspected?" the doctor asked, frowning.

"I trust your commitment to doctor-patient confidentiality," Spock asked, raising the last word into a slight question.

"Of course," the doctor said.

"I am not of this time," Spock said, slowly, allowing the Doctor to catch up with him. "I am from the 24th century in another timeline."

The Doctor's eyes widened. Spock continued, his voice sad. "I came here accidentally while trying to prevent a calamity in my own time. In doing so, I inadvertently brought with me a calamity of my own, creating a parallel timeline. Some call it a separate universe."

"The phase variance," the doctor said, turning back to his instruments.

"Yes," Spock said. "It would explain the unusual readings. The longer I stay here the worse it will get."

"You know what this means," the doctor said, his voice quieting.

Spock nodded, resigned. "I am dying."

**

Spock grieved for the loss of Vulcan in this timeline and Romulus in his own timeline. Unspeakable tragedy in two universes, each moving slowly away from one another like blasted hulls drifting in space after a battle. It was illogical and human of him to think so, but he couldn't help thinking both losses were his fault. His failure had not stopped the supernova from claiming Romulus, Remus, and a number of Romulan colony worlds, and then the arrival of Nero had introduced a destructive element into this timeline, one which had not only destroyed many ships, and countless lives, but his own planet as well. Where would the destruction end? 

He sat, alone in his apartment on Earth, scanning through the headlines in a mindless way, not absorbing anything of value. But then he stopped. And the merest ghost of a smile twitched the corner of his mouth.

ENTERPRISE SETS OUT ON HISTORIC FIVE-YEAR MISSION.

The headline felt incongruous, but it suffused him with the warmth of a proud parent. It was not his Enterprise. But it was in command of a captain Kirk, with a first officer Spock at his side. Both men changed by the unique qualities of this timeline, one by the loss of his father at a young age, the other by the loss of his mother and planet. Both officers worked well together, and Spock was grateful to see that they had put aside their differences. They had even faced Khan Noonien Singh together, so he'd heard. 

Their ship was unlike his own Enterprise, more advanced, sharper edged, a product of Starfleet's unfortunate raised hackles in the wake of Nero's murderous rampage. But seeing that it was now a ship of exploration, peace, and discovery, reassured Spock. He was glad to see it off, even gladder that he was not there in person, but distant enough from it to avoid the melancholy of seeing an unfamiliar ship with a familiar name going off on a mission that he had already taken.

He thought of the last time he'd seen Jim Kirk,  _ his  _ Jim Kirk, and he sighed.

And then his skin prickled, and his sigh turned into a groan. He quickly set down his drink, leaned back in his chair, and gritted his teeth as another of the debilitating attacks began.

Spock didn't scream, but he kept the image of James T. Kirk in his mind, a lifeline to his own time and place, as unknown energy raced through Spock's body, ripping and tearing at him.

**

"What did you say?" Spock asked, moving to the display.

The Christopher Pike Science Complex, newly constructed and bristling with potential, had opened only three months earlier, and it was already making headlines. Based on Mars, it sported not only the most advanced suite of orbital telescopes in existence, but it was tied in to an ever-growing network of deep-space probes and a number of Starfleet probe ships, each bearing a unique networked sensor array unheard of in Federation history. Spock knew that introducing future technology to this time was technically a violation of the temporal prime directive, but this timeline was already far more advanced than his own time was at this point, so the advances didn't feel so out of place. Plus, it had discovered something Spock never thought he'd see again.

"It's a streamer of coherent energy," the Vulcan scientist next to him said, her tone professional, but tinged with the barest hint of excitement. "A ribbon of some sort, sir."

"Please," Spock said, focusing on a triviality to focus his thoughts. "I hold no rank. You need not address me as sir."

"You are the director of the facility," the woman countered. "The title seemed appropriate."

"How about 'Director?'" he riposted.

The woman nodded. "That is logical, Director."

"Can you give me any more information on this ribbon?" Spock asked, finally able to face the reality of what he was seeing, possibilities appearing from the mists of an impending hopeless future. A future he realised he might be able to escape.

"It is at the extreme edge of our sensor capabilities," the scientist said, adjusting her readouts. "We only detected it because a pulsar bent an unmanned probe's scanning beam, pulling it beyond what it could normally scan. It's far beyond the range of any ship, Director."

The image on the screen blurred, then focused as the computer attempted to resolve the image. The reddish fuchsia smear, barely recogniseable as anything at all, dragged at Spock's memory. The  _ Enterprise-B _ 's sensor reading of an energy anomaly that had killed James T. Kirk. Then rumours nearly a century later that Kirk had been brought back from another reality via the same anomaly and had died on Viridian III. A message to Captain Picard of the  _ Enterprise-E  _ that had never made it off Romulus. A stolen readout from a Romulan vessel that had gathered readings of the ribbon before being destroyed by a rogue Klingon ship.

And it was here. Now.

"Can we track the ribbon's course?" Spock asked, his tone carefully neutral.

"It is heading this way," she said. "It will pass within three lightyears of this system in...approximately thirty two years.”

Spock allowed the next moment to breathe before he continued. "When will the ribbon be in range of any Starfleet ship?"

She consulted the readouts, paused to calculate another figure in her head, then said, "Fifteen years."

Were Spock human, he would have perhaps felt a stab of anger and despair. Perhaps he would have given in to an outburst of violence. But Spock was not human. Not completely. And so he said, "Thank you, doctor. Please mark it for later study. In future years, the anomaly may prove to be quite the scientific mystery."

"Of course, Director."

Spock turned and left the room, and then left the complex. The anomalous symptoms of his degradation had been growing in intensity for some time, now. Were it not for his Vulcan discipline, he no doubt believed that he would have given in to raving violence as his control fell to shreds beneath the claws of the strange attacks by now. As the timelines, his and this, further diverged, the symptoms would grow worse. His last attack had left him shaken and ragged. There was no possible way he would survive long enough to find the ribbon. He had months, a few years if he was lucky.

He needed a solution now.

**

Spock did not believe in fate. But he did respect the cosmos' sense of humour. He had given his life to save his ship, and a chance convergence of events had brought him back to life. Small things. The timing of his funeral: too late, and nothing would have happened. Too early, and the Genesis wave would have simply transformed his biomatter into something else. A tree, perhaps, or maybe a stone. Had they waited to bring his body to Vulcan, he would have remained a corpse. Had they shot his coffin into a star, he would have been reduced to atoms. A thousand tiny decisions, innocuous in and of themselves, all interacting in chance ways, leading to his regeneration. And now, he found himself here, slowly coming apart in a time that was not his own, surrounded by people he sometimes recognised, their lives nudged just slightly on different paths. And pure blind chance--a bent transmission and a pulsar with just the correct frequency--had delivered him a one-in-a-billion opportunity to seek out not only an escape from his own time period and his degenerative illness, but the chance at seeing someone he had lost decades prior, only to have it set to arrive a decade too late to be of any use.

He rose, setting his drink on the glass table in his quarters, and left.

There was an option, another one-in-a-million chance encounter from his past. And thankfully, as far as Spock knew, it hadn't been discovered yet.

**

"A ship?"

Spock inclined his head, the very picture of statuesque calm. "Yes, Admiral."

Admiral Thelin, a grave Andorian who, in another time, had been considered as Kirk's first officer before he'd settled on keeping Spock on after his tenure with Captain Pike, sat down in his chair, as though weighed down by the decision. In this timeline, Spock was pleased to see that the reshuffling of crewmembers in Starfleet following the Narada disaster had resulted in an early promotion for the promising officer, moving him into Starfleet's shipyard management.

Spock sat down as well, not wanting to give any intention of intimidation. "I do not require the uses of a large ship, or even an advanced ship. I merely need transportation."

Thelin looked at the information of the requisition screen. "This planet is in unexplored space. It would take quite months to get there."

"I was hoping," Spock began, fighting back a desperate clawing of panic at the back of his mind, "that with a smaller ship, one not encumbered by Starfleet mission directives, I could reach that planet in a matter of weeks."

Thelin shook his head, his antennae waving slightly. "I'm sorry. We cannot spare any ships. As you are not officially a member of Starfleet, I am surprised you even asked."

"I do admit to a certain amount of hubris, Admiral," Spock said, "but things are quite desperate. I don't know if you've been informed, but I have been suffering from a degenerative condition, and there exists a solution on the planet I mentioned."

Thelin narrowed his eyes. "How could you possibly know that? No one from Starfleet has even heard of this world. Our charts have no name for it."

"You must trust that I cannot tell you how I know of this world. I assure you it is not the result of any illegal activity, but I have been sworn to secrecy by top officials in Starfleet."

Thelin's grave face changed slightly. "If anyone else but you had told me that, I would have had them taken from my office. But there's something about you that inspires trust."

"If I may ask," Spock began, "were you considered for the first officer position on the  _ Enterprise _ ?"

Thelin's eyebrows flew up. "I considered it, but never had the time to put in an application. I'm glad I didn't, though. When Starfleet found itself having to adapt to losing almost an entire Academy class, I found better opportunities. Why do you ask?"

"Having obtained a better position," Spock began, spinning his logical web, "would it not be gratifying to accomplish beneficial deeds with the influence you now have, rather than falling into obscurity behind a desk? I say this not to insult you, but because I am gravely desperate, and you are one of the few people I know of who can help me."

"That sounds rather dramatic, coming from a Vulcan," Thelin said, relaxing somewhat.

"I am half human," Spock said, "although knowing the Vulcan psyche as well as I do, I can assure you that it would not be that out of character for a full Vulcan. If you doubt me, look up the records of our sculptural and artistic traditions. Vulcans may outwardly eschew emotion, but I assure you, we have a healthy appreciation for drama. Even melodrama, at times." His mouth twitched, but before he could say another word, a rush of sudden pain rippled through his body. 

Fighting not to cry out, Spock clenched his fingers around the chair's armrests, hearing the polymer creak and bend somewhere distantly as he focused on keeping himself together. It was like being ripped apart, but not from the inside. He felt himself caught between opposing tides of force, each pulling and shoving him from unknowable dimensions, his form at the mercy of the cosmos itself. It finally passed, and Spock gradually became aware of the room around him. Thelin's face was grave and anxious while another, perhaps a medic, looked helpless and terrified.

Spock spoke, his voice rough and painful. "It has passed. I am fine."

"I couldn't make sense of what I was seeing," the medic, a dark-skinned man said, his eyes wide with concern.

"I do not think this condition has been diagnosed before," Spock conceded. "But I know of a solution." At that, he turned to Thelin and gave the Andorian a silent look.

Thelin nodded. "I think I can find a ship for you," he said.

"Thank you," Spock sighed.

**

Captain Helena Jiménez of the science vessel USS Al-Kindi had taken great umbrage with Spock hijacking her vessel for a "special mission" for Starfleet, but during the two weeks he had been on board, he was confident that he had won her over.

"What can you tell me about this planet?" she asked for the thousandth time as they neared their destination.

Spock, having learned to trust the captain, especially when she had tasked her medical and science staff to take the time they had to research Spock's condition, decided now was as good a time as any to reveal the nature of the world to her.

"I cannot tell you  _ how _ I know of this world, but I can reveal what you will find there," Spock began, sitting comfortably in the captain's quarters. "There exists on this world a force which, if misused, can create great disruption and destruction. When I beam down to the surface, I must do so alone. You will be free to leave once you can no longer read my lifesigns."

Jiménez leaned forward at that. "You can't leave it at that, Spock."

Spock sighed. "I am hesitant to let what is down there fall into Starfleet's hands."

"Just tell me what it is. I can't make educated decisions based on double-talk."

"The planet houses the remnants of a great civilisation, one whose secrets have been lost to the eons. Amid the ruins, one piece of technology, or perhaps the last living inhabitant of the city, remains." He paused to take a drink of his tea, but also to indulge in a moment of drama. "This remnant is known as the Guardian of Forever."

**

"Cursory scans only," Captain Jiménez ordered as they fell into orbit.

The science officer, a Denobulan named Hulliat, gasped somewhat as the data began coming in. "There are ripples expanding outward from the planet," he said. "They're temporal in nature."

Jiménez gave Spock a look and then turned back to the viewscreen. "Let's get this done as quickly as possible."

"Captain, I recommend scanning further," Hulliat said, his hands flying over his controls. "This is . . . this is amazing."

"Amazing it may be," Jiménez said, "but we can't risk having any information on this planet in our database. At least not yet." 

She gave Spock another look and he nodded. Having decided he could trust her, Spock had revealed the nature of the Guardian's power. The captain had agreed that, with tensions running high between the Federation and the Klingons, news getting out of a portal allowing one to change the past would be dangerous in the wrong hands, especially in the hands of an enemy who sought to undermine the Federation. Once Spock's mission was completed, the Al-Kindi would relay the nature of the planet to the Federation Council verbally, keeping no stored sensor records, and allow the member worlds to decide how best to maintain the secret of the Guardian's planet.

In his own time, the planet had become a research station for the Department of Temporal Investigations, with very few gaining access to the Guardian. Its secret was so well kept, neither the Tal Shiar nor the Obsidian Order ever uncovered exactly what the nature of the planet was. Spock didn't care that he was handing the Guardian's power to the Federation years early. He had seen the Federation use the planet's power wisely and believed in this iteration of the Federation enough to trust them. But ultimately, his reasons for altering the flow of this timeline were entirely serious.

"We've found the site, Mr. Spock," Hulliat said, bringing up an orbital view of a section of the planet's surface.

"Then I will beam down at once," Spock said. Turning to Jiménez he said, "I thank you for allowing me to commandeer your ship for this most unusual mission."

She nodded. "Good luck."

**

The city looked much as it had when he had first seen it nearly a century before. Sprawling ruins reaching nearly to the horizon, a haunted graveyard of civilisation, its secrets remaining only as the rough whisper of dust. Spock had read of great empires like the Iconians or the T'Kon Empire, vast advanced civilisations whose reach spanned entire sections of the galaxy. But this one, as far as anyone had been able to discover, remained on this one planet, a vast city unconcerned with the exploration of space, their focus turned to understanding the nature of time. Had they escaped into history, leaving their civilisation to fade? Or had they all died out as the result of a cataclysm? Spock wished he could ask these questions, wished he could spend a lifetime understanding this enigmatic world.

But he only had one question today. Only one that mattered.

He approached the familiar stone structure before him. "Is it possible to travel forward in time?"

Nothing.

And then a voice, booming and resonant, echoed across the empty city as the portal flashed to life. !!A QUESTION. A QUESTION. LONG HAVE I AWAITED A QUESTION!!

Spock felt a familiar thrill. He raised his voice. "I wish to travel to the future, but not the future of this time. I seek a parallel future, one from my own time."

!!YOUR WORDS BETRAY A FAMILIARITY, SPOCK!! The Guardian said. !!THOUGH WE HAVE NOT YET MET, I REMEMBER YOU. YOUR FUTURE AND YOUR PAST ARE ONE AND I CAN SEE THE THREADS CROSSING THE GREAT RIVERS OF TIME ITSELF. YOU KNOW WHO I AM!!

"You are the Guardian of Forever," Spock said. "In my past and your future in another time, you allowed me and one other to fix a terrible mistake made in the past. I ask for your help again."

!!I CAN RETURN YOU TO YOUR OWN TIME. THERE ARE FEW WHO UNDERSTAND THE INTRICACIES OF TIME'S ARROW, BUT YOU ARE ONE WHOM I WOULD TRUST WITH THE GIFTS I OFFER!!

"I do wish to return to my own timeline, but at a different time. I am seeking a unique anomaly, one which will cross paths with this world in seventeen years. Can you send me to that point in time."

!!YOU SEEK THE NEXUS RIBBON. MY FUTURE IS AS FRESH A MEMORY AS MY MOST ANCIENT PAST. WHAT YOU SEEK IS AN ILLUSION, A DIMENSION OF THE MIND, OUTSIDE OF TIME. IT IS A FOOL'S ERRAND!!

"The one who traveled with me to the planet Earth's past. He has been lost. I seek to reclaim him."

!!YOU CANNOT ESCAPE TIME!!

Spock nodded. "That may very well be true. But it is not time I seek to escape. I merely wish to spend the last years of my existence in the company of one whom . . . whom I love."

The Guardian remained silent for a moment. And then the great voice returned. !!I DO NOT COMPREHEND LOVE!!

"I do not feel up to the task of explaining such a concept. Its very nature is illogical. But, put simply, I am lacking an important part of myself which I long ago entrusted to another. If you cannot comprehend such metaphorical language, then I am also seeking to escape the damage that being away from my own time and timeline is causing me."

!!I KNOW THE DAMAGE TO WHICH YOU REFER. YOU CAN ESCAPE SUCH A FATE BY RETURNING TO YOUR OWN FUTURE, AT THE MOMENT IN WHICH YOU LEFT!!

"That is true, but I would be alone. If you would grant my request, I can both return to my own time and do it at the side of one whom I care deeply for."

!!YOU ASK MUCH!!

"Yes. But it would be illogical to deny it. You seek to lose nothing."

!!I WOULD LOSE THE ABILITY TO CONVERSE WITH ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS THAT WHICH I CANNOT EXPLAIN TO MANY OTHERS. EVEN MY OWN PEOPLE ULTIMATELY FOUND THEMSELVES LOST AMID THE SCOPE OF THEIR OWN DISCOVERIES.!!

Spock stopped. The Guardian was lonely. He had not considered such an eventuality.

"I am mortal," Spock said. "I cannot remain with you forever. And I would be unhappy, though the knowledge you offer is indeed intriguing. I am asking merely to add fulfillment to my final years."

!!YOUR REQUEST IS ONE OF PASSIONATE EMOTION. YOUR SPECIES IS NOT GOVERNED BY EMOTION!!

"I am half human. Throughout my long life, I have learned to accept both halves of my being."

!!YOU ARE A PARADOX!!

"I suppose I am," Spock replied.

!!YOU REPRESENT WHAT I CANNOT UNDERSTAND.!! A pause. !!VERY WELL. I WILL ALLOW YOU TO TRAVEL TO THIS POINT IN THE FUTURE YOU SEEK. YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO RETURN TO THIS TIME AS I ALLOWED THE LAST TIME YOU TRAVELED THROUGH THIS PORTAL!!

"I understand."

The open space within the portal's hollow filled with mist and changing images, resolving into a vortex of light and distortion. Voices and sounds, carried across eons filtered through the vortex, voices of the past and future, their threads lost to time.

!!GO. RESOLVE YOUR LOSS!!

Spock stepped forward. And then another attack welled out of him, this one strengthened by the proximity to the time portal. Tidal forces tore him to pieces inside, though his body remained intact. Sections of his body distorted, threatened to vanish away into nothing. Spock fought the urge to fall to his knees and surrender to the pain. He could end this if only he could step forward. The solution was in front of him, a meter away. Salvation within his grasp.

Another wave of violent distortion passed through him. He screamed. Through the haze of pain, he saw the vortex before him. He couldn't move forward. He fell to his knees. The fractional lessening of his pain seemed a welcome relief. He nearly forgot why he was there. Almost gave into limp screaming oblivion.

And then the Guardian's voice returned to him. !!YOU MUST GO.!!

Spock summoned all the control he could muster, channelling his pain into a howl of pure Vulcan rage, undiluted by control or logic. He screamed, crawling forward.

And then he felt a curious tugging as the event horizon of the time vortex touched him.

He moved forward another half meter and the universe fell away.

**

The first thing Spock saw was the eyes of a concerned man staring down at him.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

His vision clouded by the receding haze of pain, Spock took a moment to gather his senses, grounding himself as his logic returned to him. "I require a shuttle."

**

He had arrived at the correct time. The Guardian of Forever stood in its usual place at the centre of the research complex Starfleet had, by the late 23rd century, built around it. It resembled a stone carving, now. It did not speak and it showed no sign of activity. The centre's director, a pale severe El-Aurian named Dr. Tolian Soran--a name Spock couldn't help but find familiar, in an offhand sort of way--assured him that the Guardian had shown no signs of activity in years, save for the brief moment when Spock had appeared, seemingly overcome with rage and terror. 

Having explained what he could, Spock continued to insist that they give him a shuttle. Unwilling to give too much information to this timeline, his own, he had merely said that he had been sent back in time as the result of an accident and had used the Guardian to return home. The only hiccup had been that he was far too prominent a person to ever be allowed the anonymity of such a story. He had been recognised almost immediately, especially since his return to the Enterprise and the encounter with V'Ger had occurred just two years prior. After assuring them that his presence here was the result of a classified mission which had necessitated his altering his appearance to appear a century older, they had ultimately granted his request, but not before holding him there for far longer than he was comfortable with, all but interrogating him about his presence there. He had said nothing about his intentions, only that he had to make an important rendezvous and time was critical.

The shuttle they had provided was adequate, but not as fast as the shuttles even a decade in the future. Nevertheless, he was able to interface it with the information he stored in his tricorder, despite the technology being separated by time and timeline. Interpolating the data, he was pleased to discover that the energy ribbon would be passing through the extreme outer edge of an uninhabited solar system. He would be able to intercept the ribbon in the system's oort cloud, hopefully shielded from anyone who might happen to see him and wonder what he was doing.

Spock found the emptiness of space calming, and he took the time it took to reach the system to meditate and reestablish his control over his emotions now that he was free of the worst of his temporal displacement symptoms. Being a century out of his time was still going to cause problems if he stayed here for too long, but now that he was in his own timeline, he should be free from the worst of the effects.

A notification beeped in from the helm, bringing Spock out of the serene calm of his ordered mind, now humming in a crystalline lattice of logic and discipline, his human emotions drifting like snowflakes amid the harder edges of his controlled Vulcan emotions. 

He rose, his limbs only somewhat rendered creaky by age, and made his way to the helm, settling into the chair. He didn't need to pay much attention to the readouts, though. The small cluster of cometary fragments ahead told him all he needed to know.

He was here.

He wished this system's oort cloud was denser, but once he brought up the extrapolations of the ribbon's course, he was pleased to see that it would pass through a reasonably-sized fragment half a million kilometres from his current position. Changing course, he located the icy mass. It was large enough to land on, but didn't have enough gravity to keep the shuttle in place, so Spock made sure to deploy the emergency tethers. Then he settled down and waited.

**

His sensors detected the ship at the same time as it detected the ribbon.

The registry was Federation. The ship was a scout, barely larger than a shuttlecraft. It reminded him of the runabouts from a century in the future--this future, he realised, with satisfaction. 

"Federation vessel," Spock hailed, hoping to resolve the intrusion quickly. The ribbon was only just visible as a magenta slash in the distance. "I am conducting classified research on a hazardous spatial anomaly. I suggest you vacate the area at once."

The reply was nearly immediate. The face of the Guardian Complex Director, Tolian Soran appeared on the viewscreen. "If I may ask," he asked, his voice harsher than it had been back at the complex, "what precisely are you studying?"

"An unknown and dangerous anomaly, Doctor," Spock replied, something niggling the back of his memory. 

"Scientific research is only classified if it has military applications," Soran replied.

"This anomaly will cause a disaster in the future," Spock replied, throwing all his cards on the table to use a human aphorism. "I am here to gather data on its composition so that we may avert that disaster. I apologise for having to dissemble regarding my origins, but it was necessary. You are in danger, Doctor."

"My sensors tell me you are directly in its path," Soran replied. "I must question your sanity in this situation, Mister Spock. Surely you don't intent to destroy yourself in the name of science."

Spock was grateful for his recent meditation. Human annoyance flared up, but he was able to temper it. "I am setting right a very old mistake. I must ask you to not interfere. You may observe, but at a safe distance."

And then the niggling in his memory clicked into place and he recalled a report he had read regarding the Enterprise-B disaster, now over a decade in the future. Dr. Tolian Soran had been on that ship transporting refugees. Had he not been a refugee himself? Was he away from his homeworld long before the Borg attack? He had been notable for being fanatical in his desire to return to the ship, even though it had been destroyed. And then . . . more memories clicked into place. Dr. Soran's name had come up again in connection to the confrontation which had allegedly resulted in a resurrected James Kirk's death. Spock had been on Romulus at that point, and had not been entirely sure the facts he was getting were accurate. But the convergence of events washed over him like a wave.

Spock wanted to hate himself. In his arrogance and desire to get to the ribbon, he had brought the very man whose eventual obsession with this ribbon, with the Nexus, would lead to a confrontation wherein James T. Kirk, inexplicably brought through history, would die alone on a rocky planet, mourned by no one save for a captain of the Enterprise who had only known him for a short time. He was not equipped to drive Soran away. At present, the scientist was drawn by ordinary curiosity, but he would see something which would alter the trajectory of his life, send him down a dangerous road which would lead to violence and death.  _ What a rogue and peasant slave am I _ , he thought to himself, the Hamlet quotation serving as both internal monologue and chastisement from the cosmos itself.

"Dr. Soran," Spock began, speaking very slowly. "You must listen to me. I know of the future. And I know that your work will be a brilliant contribution to the scientific world. You have a great deal to offer. If you stay here, you endanger that future. I beg of you. Move to a safe distance."

"Are you saying I'm destined to die here?"

"Not destined," Spock said, grateful that he didn't have to get into any specifics. "You can change your own future. Please listen to me."

"I cannot let you destroy yourself."

"I will not be destroyed."

"What will happen, then. Tell me."

"I can only say that I will survive this, but you may not."

The ribbon was growing closer.

The silence stretched on. Finally Soran said, "I will observe. I will not leave you to your fate. I will be available to render assistance."

Spock knew he'd never be able to chase Soran away. His desire for scientific knowledge was too great. And so, in succeeding in his journey, Spock would be contributing to a chain of events which would kill a great deal of people down the line. Spock had many regrets--his father, Valeris, Romulus, the crew of the Kelvin and all those who had died as a result of that tragedy--but adding another to the list hurt more than any that had come before. He had learned nothing. He was little better than an agent of chaos, fighting to remake the galaxy to his advantage, only to cause more destruction. 

The ribbon neared, a vast expanse of violent roiling energy. He had less than an hour to go.

It was too late. The damage had been done. He had no time left. His destiny bore down on him.

He secured the shuttle, donned his space suit. The shuttle would be destroyed by the gravimetric effects of the ribbon, but freed from the shuttle, he would be pulled into the Nexus bodily, wholly. He made his calculations. Too soon, and he might drift beyond the range of the energy, lost in space forever. Too late and he would be ripped apart with the shuttle, too mangled to make it to the Nexus. His timing had to be precise. And he was quickly giving in to despair, his human feelings chipping at the Vulcan resolve, sending pieces like shrapnel into the girders that held him together.

Five minutes remained.

He secured his helmet and began venting all atmosphere from the shuttle so as to avoid explosive decompression. He would do this cautiously, precisely.

Three minutes.

He took one last look out the viewport at Soran's ship, sitting well out of range of danger, but close enough to collect scans, scans which would send him down a dangerous path as his obsession consumed him. Spock moved to the back of the shuttle, activated his magnetic boots, and wished the scientist well, envisioning a possible future where he wouldn't cause such devastation.

Time was up. He opened the shuttle hatch, stepped forward, deactivated his magnetic boots, and pushed out into open space.

He couldn't see the ribbon approaching. Couldn't hear it. He faced away from it, drifting freely. He had no control over his trajectory, now. He was at the mercy of his hasty calculations. 

He reassured himself that the last time he had relied on such uncertain variables, he had brought his crew back from the twentieth century and saved earth from a dangerous probe.

He knew the ribbon should be closing in on him any second. 

He waited.

He waited.

He began to doubt if he had miscalculated.

And then suddenly, he felt a wave of displacement sweep through him. It felt similar to the wracking attacks he had suffered, a pulling outside of oneself. Only this time, he wasn't being pulled apart, he was being pulled away, and yet he hadn't gone anywhere. The universe was being pulled away from him. He felt a moment of loss. Everyone he had known was gone. And he was alone. And then he heard a voice.

"Open your eyes."

He spun, formless. Colours blurred together. His eyes were open, weren't they? What was he seeing?

The whirling slowed as he began to feel grounded in reality. But was this reality? He was surrounded by trees. He had been in space moments before. He reached up. He was still wearing the space helmet. The whirling trees slowed and he felt his feet planted in soft grass. He removed his helmet, breathed in clean outdoor air. Someone stood in front of him. His eyes cleared.

Dr. Soran looked back, and smiled.

"I bet you weren't expecting to see me here," the doctor said, his face older, and yet softer.

"I was not," Spock replied truthfully.

"The Nexus is an interesting place," Dr. Soran said. "I was convinced that it would be the end of all my troubles, a chance to exist away from the rigours of reality. See everyone I'd ever lost. Live forever. But that's not how it works. The Nexus is a reality created by the mind, a dimension at the whims of our own thoughts. I made it here. I killed a lot of people to make that happen. And you know what I found?"

Spock shook his head. 

"I found guilt and loss," Soran said. "Thankfully another was able to escape the Nexus and stop me, but this echo will forever remain here, haunted by what I did to make this happen. I say this because the Nexus gives us what we need. That's why I'm here. You need to hear certain things to release your burdens."

"Is this a mythical purgatory, then?" Spock asked, somewhat disappointed.

"Not at all. What I mean was, the Nexus can't yet create the reality you envision because your thoughts are too consumed by unnecessary guilt. The same thing happened to me. My guilt was real, so I was caught here, unable to ever achieve the freedom the Nexus offers. But you can move past this way station."

"To borrow from Earth literature, are you to be my Virgil, then? And I Dante?"

"I am you, more than I am me," Soran said. "I was created by your mind. My form is merely an echo of a monster who fought to achieve paradise by killing others. Dr. Tolian Soran, I'm happy to say, died on Viridian III, his victims saved. But you are here, fully. And as a Vulcan, I would think you would appreciate the logic of an ordered mind."

"Perhaps," Spock said, resigning himself to forestalling his ultimate goal.

"You are not responsible for that which you blame yourself."

"A bold, illogical statement," Spock countered.

"Your father contributed to your estrangement as much as you did. Valeris chose treason despite your teaching. Nero chose violence and revenge in the wake of your unsuccessful attempt to help. And I, faced with one of the galaxy's most beautiful scientific mysteries, chose obsession and violence over rational awe. That you were involved in those situations does not place the blame on your shoulders."

"I could have stopped a great deal of the killing," Spock said, "were I not blinded by my goals. I was single-minded and arrogant."

"Perhaps," Dr. Soran said. "But it is not your job to control the actions of others."

"Perhaps it is the concept of control that bothers me," Spock said. "I have been tossed through my life, at the mercy of things which I could not control. Freak accidents, chance happenings, coincidences. I am alive today because of random convergences of choice. I have not been much in control of my life."

"You chose to sacrifice yourself at Genesis," Soran countered.

"One choice."

"You chose to help your adopted sister change the fate of the galaxy."

"I was young."

"You chose to give your former captain a chance at a life he had not thought possible."

"I threatened my career."

"You fought for Romulan Vulcan reunification."

"I failed."

"You didn't," Soran said. "It will take time, but your vision will be realised, and you will be celebrated."

"I never sought recognition. I sought peace."

"Exactly." Soran gave him a smug smile. "All your decisions were made out of a sense of justice and peace. That others chose discord should not rest on your shoulders."

"Am I to merely ignore what I've done?"

"No. You're to learn from your mistakes without blaming yourself for mistakes made by others."

"A semantic distinction,"

"Your human emotions make you illogical, my son."

Spock looked up, eyes widening. Where Dr. Soran had stood moments before, an austere, stately Vulcan regarded him. Sarek inclined his head in quiet greeting.

"Are you an illusion, too?"

"Yes," Sarek said. "But a necessary one."

"Proceed," Spock said, wishing he could be more removed from this fanciful illusion. The vision of his father compelled him to listen, though. Perhaps a remnant of his contentious relationship with him.

"You mind-melded with Captain Jean-Luc Picard who had touched my mind before," Sarek said, calm, rational. "You know all that I knew. You knew the truth about your decision to join Starfleet and my own disgrace."

"You were put in an impossible situation," Spock said. "You had to choose one of your children. Sybok had forsaken you. Michael would have faced constant prejudice, though she would have succeeded brilliantly. My own dual heritage hindered me, but at least I appeared Vulcan. I was the logical choice."

"But I grew angry at you," Sarek said. "I should not have. I was angry at myself, at the narrow-minded prejudice that poisons the Vulcan mind, even though we claim to be so advanced. I took that anger out on you. That was my mistake."

Spock regarded his father. He had another retort ready to parry the illusion's words with, but chose to remain silent, realising that what his father was saying was right. He closed his eyes, savoured a quiet moment and then opened them.

Sarek continued. "One of my greatest failings was somehow instilling in Sybok, you and Michael Burnham this need to fix others. My own desire to fix Vulcan failings bled through in my dealings with you. Sybok proclaimed himself a prophet of some mythical father figure, a bit of symbolism which haunts me to this day. Michael suffered from such high expectations that it took the threat of a galactic calamity to get her away from my unreasonable expectations of her. And then there's you. You found yourself displaced in an alternate universe in an attempt to fix something which you could not have possibly controlled. The Romulan supernova was engineered by forces beyond the natural. It was calculated to be devastating." 

Spock raised an eyebrow at that. He'd suspected something of the sort, but could never find proof. The thought made him angry rather than relieved, though.

Sarek continued. "You must not wound yourself unnecessarily, Spock."

"Perhaps I have grown too accustomed to it."

"And now you have a chance to change that. You find yourself here because you felt you deserved something, not that you could help anyone. That shows progress."

"I do not intend to stay here."

Sarek grew graver. "You may leave at any time, but you cannot take the one you seek with you."

"It has been done before."

"Exactly," Sarek said. It has been done, already. The echo of the one you seek remains here, but his corporeal self perished."

"I suspected as much," Spock said, the distant ache of grief growing within him. "All that remains is an illusion."

"Not an illusion," Sarek corrected. "It is him. But one who is tied forever to this place."

"This is a purgatory, then," Spock said, his voice sad. "Shadows and stasis."

"It's what you make of it," Sarek said.

"How could I possibly be content here?"

"Because he is here. More real than I. Did you not visibly relax when you saw me? I am merely conjured here by your mind. He is here, his own self, wholly separate from you." Sarek remained silent for a moment and then added, "Allow yourself to be content, Spock. Allow yourself peace."

Spock said nothing for a long while, his thoughts musing over what he had heard, what he'd done, and where he now found himself. He had given up much. And now he found himself in a place where all one needed to do was be. To exist, free of the expectations of the galaxy. Free from the need to change or fix.

It was unbearably selfish, but he allowed it, releasing tension and inhaling possibility. He was here for himself. He had achieved what he sought out to do.

He let out a breath, one tear escaping the corner of his right eye. He nodded. "Yes," he said.

"What's that, Spock?"

Spock opened his eyes. He sat in a familiar home at a familiar table. Across the expanse of wood sat James T. Kirk, one hand curled around a familiar mug of coffee, the steam fragrant and comforting.

"Is it really you?" Spock asked.

Jim nodded. "It is really me."

"Am I still in the Nexus?" Spock hated having to poke holes in the illusion so soon after seeing that which he had lost, but his need for rational explanation won over.

Jim smiled. "What do you think?"

"I think I am."

"I think you are, too, but you know what?" Jim leaned forward, his smile widening. "I think I'm here with you. So is that so bad?"

"I do not believe so."

"Do you remember this day?" Jim asked, leaning back and enjoying a sip of coffee.

"It was the day you left to attend the launch of the Enterprise-B."

"Yes it is. And you know what?"

"What?"

"I'm not attending it this time. To hell with them."

"You saved the ship."

"I did. But that was the past. I'm here now. This is a new future, one we can create together."

"Must we remain here eternally?"

"I hope not," Jim said. "I love you, but that would be incredibly tedious." He rose and then held out a hand. "What do you say, Spock? Care to explore the galaxy with me?"

Spock rose. "And how long will this voyage take?" He allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk into the barest hint of a smile.

Jim's smile was wide and genuine, boyish and full of adventure. "As long as we want."

"Then I accept."

And then the room vanished and changed. And the horizon stretched out in front of them. 

And Spock understood, in that moment, he was truly happy.

Because he and Jim Kirk were together.

Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> General notes: First off, thank you so much for reading this! You're amazing and I appreciate you taking the time to play in this sandbox with me!
> 
> Continuity Notes: Jim Kirk entered the Nexus in 2293, at the launch of the Enterprise-B. He left the Nexus in 2371 with Jean-Luc Picard to stop Dr. Tolian Soran and subsequently died on Viridian III. Guinan also reveals at this time that once someone enters the Nexus and then leaves, an echo of their personality remains behind.
> 
> In 2387, Spock was pulled into an alternate history created by Nero, ending up in a much-changed 2258 where he meets his past self. In 2263 of this timeline, Kelvin Spock learns of Prime Spock's death.
> 
> We met Thelin in 2269 (of the prime timeline) when, after an accident, Spock is accidentally killed in the past and must fix the timeline by traveling through the Guardian of Forever. The altered timeline has Thelin as the first officer of the Enterprise.
> 
> In 3189, Phillipa Georgiou realises that being separated from the Mirror Universe and thousands of years away from her own time are causing a mysterious degradation of her cellular structure. She resolves this by traveling through the Guardian of Forever to another time much closer to her own.


End file.
